Faded Blossoms
by lisehrin
Summary: Tony & Angela. A bouquet of flowers has a hidden meaning. Season 4-ish.
1. Forsythia

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing the characters for a little while, they're not mine...

1. Forsythia  
  
Tony nervously paced through the living room; trying to convince himself he wasn't losing his mind. It was a simple plan really. When Angela walked in the front door, as he knew she would in approximately 5 minutes, he was going to ask her out. Not as a diversion for a lonely Thursday night, not just as two good friends going for a night on the town, but as two people who cared about each other in a much more than platonic way. Doubt seized his heart as he approached the front door in his hundredth sweep through the room that evening. What was he doing? Angela was his boss – Did he have a right to want anything more out of their relationship? Was this right? Getting involved with your boss sounded like a bad idea – something he'd always counseled other people against. So, where did he get off ignoring his own advice? The advice of a handsome, charming and very wise man; he mentally corrected himself. No, he thought with a grin, he liked Angela; he liked her a lot. Okay, he liked her more than a lot, in fact he... No use getting ahead of yourself Micelli, first you've gotta step up to the plate and ask her out, then you can think about the rest of the game. He was feeling more confident now, more assured of himself and of the outcome of tonight. He stalled his pacing and glanced about the room in a seemingly calm and confident manner. This was Angela after all, his best friend. Someone he knew cared an awful lot about him too. The flowers! What had he done with the flowers? He turned and rushed towards the kitchen, glancing impatiently at his wristwatch.  
  
Angela breezed into the house at the exact same moment as Tony returned to the living room, tightly gripping the flowers in his somewhat sweaty palms. He stopped and watched her, a swirl of color and energy flowing into the room.  
  
She turned away from the coat rack, smiling as she heard his footfall. Brightly, she greeted him, "Hi Tony! How was your day?"  
  
He felt a goofy look appear on his face as he greeted her in return. "Hey Angela. Good, my day was good. You sound like you've had a good day." Good God, what was he blabbering on about?  
  
"Oh Tony, it's been a wonderful day! I bowled them over with my Squeegee Pop presentation, then the Mayers Company called about a new campaign, and then there was this guy... Oh Tony that reminds me. I hope you didn't go too much trouble for supper. I should have called, but I've got plans tonight."  
  
He felt his heart begin to slip to the floor. It couldn't be, could it? It almost sounded as if she were going out on a date, with another guy. "Well, actually I, um, I ah..."  
  
Angela raised her eyes up from the pile of mail she was leafing through and looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since she came in the door. He was wearing a jacket and tie, his hair was neatly combed, and his shoes were practically shining. She felt a momentary pang of jealousy as she spoke. "Oh, you're all dressed up. Do you have a date too?"  
  
The last shreds of hope he had been holding on to crashed and fell to the floor, along with his heart. So, it was a date, with someone else. He felt the stems of the flowers start to give as he crushed them in his hands.  
  
Before he had a chance to speak, Angela glanced at her watch. "Oh my! Look at the time! I've got to go get ready." She was already halfway up the stairs before she remembered him and called out, "Bye Tony! Have fun tonight!" Then she was gone.  
  
He stood dumbfounded, staring blankly at the space she had just vacated. What exactly just happened here, he wondered. What happened to my perfect little plan? The flowers began to droop haphazardly in his hand. A bubble of anger rose in his chest. He didn't know if he was angry with her, himself, or this unknown guy, but he was certain of the anger. He glanced down at the cheerful little bouquet in his grasp and noticed the card sitting there, taunting him with his own words. How stupid was I to think that this would ever work? He crumpled the card, briefly giving in to his rage.  
  
It was in this moment that Mona entered through the back door, cheerfully calling out, "Hiya Bub! Whatcha..?" Her words trailed off as she noticed the black look on his face. She softened her voice and asked with concern, "Hey. Are you okay?"  
  
As she took tentative step towards him, the urge to get out of the house as fast and as far as possible overtook him. He didn't want her of all people to know his humiliation. He carelessly tossed the flowers into the nearest vase, along with the card. "Yeah Mone, I'm fine. Look, I've got to go." He barely looked at her as he grabbed his jacket and opened the door. "Bye Mona." The door shut roughly behind him.  
  
Mona's brow furrowed in concern, trying to pull together what had just happened. The guy who just left might look and sound like Tony, but he sure seemed an imposter. Just as her mind began to ponder the significance of the flowers, she heard the click of heels on the steps and the sound of Angela's voice carrying down the stairs.  
  
"Mother, is that you? Can you come up here for a minute?"  
  
Mona gave her head a disturbed shake in the direction of the door and followed her daughter's voice upstairs. Maybe Angela could give her some insight into what had just happened. 


	2. Hyacinth

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

2. Hyacinth  
  
Mona didn't even bother knocking as she entered Angela's room. She just pushed the door open and proceeded to stumble over a pile of clothes lying in the middle of the room. Picking up a stray garment, she called out "Angela? Are you lost in the middle of this trash heap or did your closet just throw up?"  
  
Angela poked her head around the bathroom door, "Mother! I thought I heard your voice downstairs. Thanks for coming up, I could really use your help." She shyly stepped into the room and struck a modest pose. "What do you think? Does this say fun, daring, and sexy? Do you think it's me?" The dress was crimson red, completely form fitting, and more than a little revealing.  
  
"Angela, I don't think you and that dress even speak the same language." Mona raised her eyebrows and took a second look at the dress, starting to understand Tony's quick exit from the house.  
  
"It's too much isn't it? I knew I shouldn't have bought this, but when I put it on in the store, it just made me feel...""  
  
"Hot to trot?" Mona interjected.  
  
"Mother!" Angela blushed furiously and then admitted, "Maybe a little." She turned and began to primp in front of the mirror.  
  
Mona waited patiently for a full five seconds before giving into her curiosity. "So. Tell me about him. Tell me why you want to be fun, daring, and sexy, and why I have a feeling HE isn't Tony."  
  
Angela paused and turned to look at her mother. "Tony?"  
  
"Yeah, you know the guy, Italian, brown hair, big puppy dog brown eyes, Brooklyn accent, and a butt you could..." Angela glared at her with a look that said 'get to the point'. Mona shrugged and gave her a sly wink before continuing. "I just saw him downstairs, looking a little less then his usual goofball self. Shot out of the room like a bat out of hell."  
  
"Oh Mother," sighed Angela, annoyed, "you're reading too much into things. He was probably just in a hurry to go on his date."  
  
Mona looked unconvinced. "Tony's got a date?"  
  
"Yeah, and so do I. I met him today while waiting to meet with the Squeegee Pop people. He was just sitting there when I walked in, reading the only copy of 'Business Week'. He got up and made room for me and we just started talking. His name's Barry, and he's just, he's just wonderful!" The last came out as an excited sigh.  
  
Mona had stopped listening somewhere around the words 'Squeegee Pop'. This was bad. Whoever this Barry was, she was sure he was just another guy in a long line of Michael's and Grant's, and Geoffrey's with a G. She liked seeing her daughter so happy and upbeat, but she wasn't sure she could handle another of Angela's bland and boring dates. "Gee, he sure sounds like quite the catch!" She wondered how obvious the sarcasm was, and if Angela would pick up on it or remain oblivious.  
  
Angela felt her excitement deflate a little at her mother's words. Just once, she'd like to feel encouragement from her, some sign that she was actually happy for her. It had been a long time since she'd met a guy who was smart, funny, and eager to get to know her, no strings attached. For a brief second her mind flashed on the image of Tony she carried around in her head. Then she quickly pushed the thought away, determined to forget about the Tony factor, at least for the night.  
  
Guilt crept over Mona as she noticed the slight wince on Angela's face and saw how her shoulders sagged. "You do look wonderful though. Knock him dead!" She squeezed Angela's hand and headed for the door. "I'm out of here. You're not the only one with a date tonight you know!"  
  
"Goodnight Mother. Knock him dead yourself." She smiled as her mother left the room, then turned back to the mirror for another look. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, preparing herself to be the wonderful woman she kept trying to convince herself she was. 


	3. Forget Me Not

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

3. Forget-me-not  
  
Tony turned the key in the ignition and listened as the engine sputtered to a halt. The headlights dimmed and died and suddenly he was immersed in darkness. The night outside his windshield was black, with even the stars hiding behind the gray clouds that loomed in the sky. He couldn't help but feel a bit of pleasure in finally finding something that matched the current state of his mood. He'd driven for hours along the winding roads of Fairfield. Then, having tired of passing the same buildings and spots that all seemed to remind him of Angela, he headed out of town and onto the highway. Of course, he should have known better, because here he was, sitting up at Inspiration Point, thinking of her again. All roads in his life eventually led back to Angela. At least the drive had managed to tame the fury he had felt before leaving the house. It had done nothing to calm the embarrassment, or the disappointment, or the intense jealousy he was feeling. These things had only grown during the drive, as they sat and festered in the pit of his stomach.  
  
He cared about Angela more than he cared about anyone in this world, except Sam. He wanted to be the man she was out with tonight, the man who held her in his arms and heard her laughter in his ears. What he wanted was a lifetime of moments with her. What he had was a job, a friend, and a dark and starless night. The wanting never stopped. All of his life he wanted things that were just out of his reach. He'd come close a couple of times, like when he'd realized his dream of playing for the majors. There had been more to that dream though. It was his chance to give Sam and Marie everything they deserved, his chance to show the world what you could do if you followed your heart. A moment of stupidity and youthful abandon had ended it all. Then Marie had got sick and all he wanted was for her to get better, but he didn't get that wish either. Rain began to pound on the tin roof of the jeep as Tony sat and brooded. At least he'd got one thing right – he got Samantha out of Brooklyn and found a better life for her, a better life for both of them really. With Angela, Jonathan and Mona they'd found a home, love, and laughter; things he never dared to dream for again. Unfortunately, gaining all of this wasn't enough for him, because over the years he found himself wanting more and more. Sometimes he wanted so much that it physically hurt. He loved Angela and now it looked like he was losing her before he even had a chance to try.  
  
A sharp crack of thunder reverberated through the valley below, bringing him out of his melancholy state. It suddenly occurred to him that this was Angela and that whatever else she may be; she was always overly cautious and reserved when it came to matters of the heart. It wasn't as if he was going to lose her from his life in one evening. It was just one date, and although he still wished it wasn't happening, it would probably come to nothing in the end. Relief washed through his system, as he decided that all he had to do was wait it out. There was still a chance to tell her what she meant to him. 


	4. Evening Scented Stock

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

4. Evening Scented Stock  
  
The thought that there was still a chance to tell Angela how he felt carried Tony through the rest of the night, and most of the next day. Breakfast was the same as ever, with him and Angela flirting lightly over her juice and coffee, as the kids rolled their eyes in the background. By the time everyone headed out the door bound for work and school, he was convinced that the previous night was just an aberration, a blip in the radar screen of his life. He even whistled as he went about straightening the house, taking care to move the flowers from the spot he had unceremoniously shoved them to their rightful place of honor. He took pride in the fact that everything in the house had a place where it belonged, and the flowers belonged on the cupboard next to the stairs. He took the thought a step further as he realized that each family member also had a place in the house where they belonged. Angela had her study, he had the kitchen, and he guessed Samantha had her room. Then again, he thought, maybe she belonged next to the telephone, which seemed to be more often than not permanently attached to her ear. He paused mid flicker of the feather duster as he tried to pin down which spot most said 'Mona'. Somehow, the image of her breezing in and out of doorways on her way between her various dates was the thought that featured most prominently in his mind. Deftly working his way over the various knickknacks on the bookshelf, he tried to decide where Jonathan belonged. Funny, no one spot seemed to scream his name. It was almost as if he was a part of the framework of the house, never completely defining anything around him. Tony figured that maybe he'd have to do something about that but shrugged the idea away. Jonathan was still a work in progress.  
  
It was mid-afternoon before reality came along to shatter his serenity. He grabbed the ringing phone and answered it with a hearty, "Hello, Bower residence."  
  
"Hey Tony." It was Angela.  
  
She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. "Hey Angela, what's up?"  
  
She hesitated half a second before continuing. "I felt bad about last night and I didn't want to leave you in the lurch again."  
  
"Oh?" He was completely flatfooted, had she guessed his intentions about last night?  
  
"Yeah, I wanted to let you know in advance that I won't be home until later tonight. I've got plans in the city."  
  
Plans? Again? He couldn't help but ask her, "You've got plans, another date?" He felt a sinking sensation inside as he realized he already knew the answer.  
  
"Yeah, with Barry." She wondered why she felt so reluctant to tell Tony about this new man in her life.  
  
"So his name is Barry. What..." Tony stopped himself, fighting back the urge to pry into her life. He released a short breath and then switched directions. "Um, okay, it's no big deal. I'll let the kids know you won't be home 'til later."  
  
Angela bit her lip, feeling a little guilty. Guilt? Why was she feeling guilt? It wasn't as if the children would be upset if she missed another dinner; it was hardly a rare occurrence in her life. "Thanks Tony. I shouldn't be too late."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Silence settled over the phone line before Angela spoke again. "Well, I guess I should be getting back to work. You know, people to see, things to sell..."  
  
"Oh yeah, I know, me too. Clothes to wash, beds to make... Busy, busy, busy. Bye Angela."  
  
"Bye Tony." She spoke softly and stared at the receiver for a long moment before hanging it up. She shook her head firmly as if to clear it, then straightened her posture in the chair. Time to get back to work. 


	5. Zinnia

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

5. Zinnia  
  
As the weeks passed by, and the weeks turned into months, it became painfully obvious to Tony that he had been wrong about Angela. He had been wrong to assume this thing with Barry was just a fling and that he was just some guy who would disappear as quickly as he entered the picture. Long dinners had turned into nights on the town and cozy evenings at home and finally long weekends out of town. As he saw Angela's relationship with Barry become more and more serious, he felt his future with her, and even his friendship with her, slip farther and farther away. At first he had bided his time, spending quiet evenings at home, hoping that she would come in the door and tell him it was all over with Barry. He'd watched a million old movies, played a thousand card games with Jonathan, drove Samantha up the wall by hounding her dates, and had seen Mona through at least five bad breakups, before he realized just how serious the relationship was. Angela wasn't going to come home to him anytime soon; at least not in the way he wanted her to. He missed her. It had never occurred to him that you could live under the same roof with someone and see them day-to-day but still miss them. As he watched Angela leave the house once again with Barry's hand resting on the small of her back, guiding her out the door, he decided he needed to find a life or else he'd go crazy with the situation. There was always the gang back in Brooklyn to see or he could stop by that new sports bar on the other side of town. Yeah, it would be good to go out and have a bit of fun again. If Angela could have a life without him, maybe he could have a life without her too. He got off the couch and headed upstairs to get ready, determined to find this new life as soon as possible.  
  
If Tony had felt the passage of time weighing heavily on him, Angela felt just the opposite. The past few months were a whirlwind of activity and emotions, and she was still looking for a chance to catch her breath. She was enjoying her time with Barry. He respected her and her position, but also took every opportunity to treat her like a queen. He surprised her with flowers and cards and sweet attempts at home cooked meals. He found just as much pleasure in hearing the opera as he did in hearing a baseball game on the radio. On top of all that, he appeared to genuinely like and care for her family, despite their best efforts to discourage him from it.  
  
She hadn't gone into the relationship with any long-term plans. All she really wanted was someone to have a few good times with. Somehow though, he'd won a place in her heart, a place she couldn't bring herself to let go of. So one date led to another and before she realized it, she was in a 'relationship'. A relationship that seemed pretty close to the ideal she'd always dreamed about. And the first time they'd slept together; he'd made her feel completely beautiful and secure.  
  
In spite of all that was good, she couldn't help but feel the lack of a certain sparkle in her life. Sometimes she missed her family, what with work and dating taking up so much of her time. It seemed that whenever she did free up some time for them, they were all too busy for her. She tried to convince herself that it was just a matter of everyone being caught up in their own lives, but it still hurt a bit. Mona was on the prowl again, and Sam was preoccupied with boys, friends, and school (in that order). Even Jonathan had an expanded social circle since joining the science club. And Tony... She'd worried about him when she'd first started seeing Barry. He seemed lonely and a little at a loss with what to do with his evenings. Now though, especially since he'd started taking classes at Ridgemont, he was never around. There were days where she longed to sit down with him and have one of their infamous chats. The ones where they would settle into the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a movie and discuss everything under the sun, from what he thought of her latest sales pitch to debating whether Deborah Kerr was better in 'The King and I' or 'An Affair to Remember'. Moments alone with Tony were rare occurrences these days. When they were together, they were more likely to be picking a fight than joking over her morning orange juice. She wondered why she couldn't have one good thing come into her life without it pushing the other good things out of the way. She sighed to the empty house, flicking off the television. As she slowly made her way towards bed, her mind only barely registered the vase of dried and brittle flowers sitting beside the stairs. She made a mental note to ask Tony about it, but forgot about them the instant her head hit the pillow. 


	6. Cyclamen

Disclaimer: Anything WTB? related belongs to those who created it, the rest is mine.

6. Cyclamen  
  
Angela gingerly tried to remove herself from Barry's embrace. The glare of the alarm clock reminded her that it was midnight already and that she had a long day ahead of her. She thought maybe if she could slip away quietly and get home, that maybe there was a chance of getting at least five hours of sleep before she had to wake up. Five hours of dreamless sleep in her own bed before the familiar rapping of Tony's hand on her door welcomed her to another day. The first thing she had to do though was untangle herself from Barry's firm grasp on her body. She cared about him a lot; she wouldn't be here if she didn't, but lately she had begun to feel smothered by his need for her. As trapped emotionally as she felt trapped physically in this moment. She lifted his hand and attempted to roll out of his reach. Too late – she heard him whimper slightly before he reached out and pulled her back toward him. "Where are you going sweetie?" he mumbled into her bare shoulder with a kiss.  
  
She repressed a sigh and turned towards him, gently grasping his hand in hers. "It's late. I have big day tomorrow. I need to go home."  
  
"Stay here." It came out sounding like something between a command and a whine.  
  
"I can't. We've discussed this before. I'm just not ready for the whole staying the night thing. I want to wake up in the morning and be with my family. I don't see them enough as it is." Her voice was calm and soothing, like a parent trying to deal with an unruly child. She sat up and reached for her robe in the darkness.  
  
"Don't you want to wake up in the morning and be with me too?" His question was met with a heavy silence and then the sound of her fumbling for her clothes. The silence both angered him and answered his question at the same time. He tried one more time. "So, you're going then?"  
  
She heard the hollowness in his voice, but fought back the impulse to give in. "I have to."  
  
"No you don't." His tone was grim. "You want to."  
  
With obvious annoyance, she replied, "Yeah, I want to. I want to curl up in my own comfortable bed for a few hours and then get up and kiss my son good morning because I missed kissing him goodnight. I want to hear Sam complain about how horribly unfair her life is and then wheedle her way into an extra allowance. I want to hear the same things from my mother over our morning coffee before I drag her out of the house to meet the train." She paused for a breath and then added, "I want my family."  
  
"And Tony?" he asked.  
  
"What?" She wheeled around to face him.  
  
He rolled over and turned on a lamp. He slowly turned back to her and said with a trace of bitterness, "You mentioned what you wanted from everyone else in your little family. What do you want from Tony? Don't tell me he's not your 'family' too."  
  
He could tell by the look on her face that she hadn't been expecting the conversation to take this direction. She cocked her head slightly, "What? What are you talking about? And what does my wanting to go home for the night have to do with Tony?"  
  
Barry took note of her defensive posture, arms folded across her chest and eyebrows arched in challenge. The only time he saw her react like this, was when Tony became the subject of conversation. It was a sore spot between them, one he couldn't resist picking at over and over again. She was the master of denial and avoidance when it came to her housekeeper, but this time he wasn't going to let it go. Quietly he answered, "It has everything to do with Tony."  
  
"It has nothing to do with...."  
  
"It has everything to do with Tony," he repeated firmly. "It has everything to do with the fact that you can leave me waiting on the phone for ten minutes, but if Tony calls you answer in a heartbeat."  
  
"Well, it could be about Jonathan," she explained lamely.  
  
"It could be," he admitted, "but it never is. I got us box seats at the Mets' game because you said you liked baseball, and the first words out of your mouth were, 'I wish Tony could be here for this.'"  
  
"Tony loves baseball. To see a game from up there would have sent him over the moon." She didn't know why she kept offering up these explanations. It only seemed to make matters worse.  
  
"Yeah, I know, you told me." She could see the sadness in his eyes as he continued. "When I took you to La Fleur, you couldn't help but recount that adorable story of how Jonathan set you and Tony up for Valentine's Day."  
  
"It was a cute story..." She stopped when she saw the annoyed look on his face.  
  
"You cancelled on my awards dinner last week because Samantha had a school play...."  
  
She interrupted him with a warning tone, "You said this was about Tony."  
  
He was too caught up in recounting all the little things that had been annoying him lately to pay attention to her words. "Samantha is Tony's daughter, not yours. However, you seem to jump in at every opportunity to play at being her mother. And Tony and Jonathan seem to fit into the father/son role pretty easily too. So I wonder what part I could ever play in this perfect little family you've created."  
  
She spoke low and deadly serious, "I am not playing at being Samantha's mother. I may not have given birth to that girl, but I love her just as much as if she were my own. I would do anything; give up anything, for her. Tony would do the same for Jonathan. Nothing you can say or do will ever change that fact, so I'm telling you this now, don't even try."  
  
He recoiled a bit at the fierceness of her words. He hadn't meant to attack her relationship with Sam, he really hadn't. "Angela. I'm sorry. I, I was caught up in my little rant and I didn't think about what I was saying. I really am sorry."  
  
Her expression didn't change.  
  
The fire of his argument had died and all he was left with was remorse. Pathetically he tried, "Angela, it's just that I love you. So much. And lately it feels like you're slipping away from me."  
  
"Barry, I care about you, I really do, but..."  
  
"But you don't love me." His words echoed in the silence.  
  
Angela felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. "I wanted to. I really tried."  
  
"You should go home now." He wouldn't look at her, trying with all his strength to maintain his composure.  
  
She grabbed her final piece of clothing and made for the door. At the last moment she turned and tried to speak, "I...."  
  
"Go!" He said forcefully, secretly wishing she'd rush back towards him and tell him that she loved him.  
  
Quietly, she stood and looked at him for a long moment, before softly whispering, "Goodbye Barry." The tears spilled down her cheeks as she threw on her coat and left his apartment. What was wrong with her? Why did she end up hurting everyone who tried to care for her? She closed her eyes briefly against the self-hatred and headed towards the comfort of home. 


	7. Petunia

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

7. Petunia  
  
"I know something you don't know!" Jonathan was taunting Sam in a sing- songy voice.  
  
"What twerp? Have you leaped over basic multiplication and started taking fortune telling?" Little brothers could be so annoying, even if they weren't technically your little brother.  
  
Jonathan heaved a sigh of disdain and told her, "I learned multiplication years ago, and I'm actually starting in on algebra now." Samantha rolled her eyes. "Besides, I know something you don't know!"  
  
"Jonathan! You're so annoying. Dad, can you make him stop?" She turned her pleading eyes towards her father.  
  
"Will you all just stop!" Angela had been sitting quietly at the table staring dimly at her coffee cup, trying to fight back her increasing annoyance. She failed.  
  
All eyes in the room turned to stare at her and she felt the bubble of annoyance begin to grow to enormous proportions. Before she had a chance to let loose, Tony stepped in and announced, "Hey guys, time for school." He shot a warning look at both of them. Sam and Jonathan got up meekly and quietly said their good-byes before leaving the room. Five seconds later, the argument picked up in the living room, only being silenced by the slam of a closing door. Tony turned and leaned against the cupboard, watching Angela with a raised eyebrow.  
  
She could feel him staring at her and once again the unreasonable anger began to boil in her chest. "What? What are you looking at?" Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him. He continued to stare at her silently. "I haven't been sleeping well, okay? And the last thing I want to deal with this morning is those two fighting like cats and dogs. Again." When he still didn't say anything, she knew she had to get out or tear him and that sanctimonious look of his to shreds. She got up. "Look, I've got to go. I'll be home for dinner tonight. Six-thirty at the latest." Her voice was clipped and clear as she turned to him and spoke, "Goodbye Tony."  
  
"Bye Angela." He answered politely, watching her rush through the door. To himself he said, "Oh boy, that was a fun breakfast. Sheesh!" He shook his head and began clearing the dishes from the table.  
  
The remainder of the day seemed to go from bad to worse. In fact, Angela considered the gloomy breakfast earlier on to be the highlight of her day. In her current state of mind, the only thing she wanted was to hole up in her office and forget the rest of the world for a while. Unfortunately, the world kept knocking at her door. First, the copy for the Anderson account got lost in transit and then the Squeegee Pop people called to say they were 'seriously reconsidering' the direction of their campaign. To top things off, instead of pitching in to help like the rest of the staff, her mother had decided to go shopping, because as she so delicately put it, "Your bad mood is making me irregular."  
  
When Angela finally dragged herself in through the front door around 8:30, she was hoping against hope for a calm, peaceful atmosphere and the lingering scent of lasagna in the air. Instead, Alice Cooper belted out 'Hey Stoopid' from upstairs and the pile of empty pizza boxes on the coffee table negated any remaining hopes for a decent supper. As she stood in the door, pondering whether to stay and fight or to flee and hide, Jonathan came barreling down the stairs. "Hey Mom!" he called out over the noise and began rooting through the pizza boxes. Tony walked into the room from the kitchen, took one look at the disheveled living room, the pile of boxes, and the frozen appearance of Angela in the doorway, and decided it was time for action. "SAM! TURN THAT OFF!" he yelled upstairs.  
  
Faintly, over the din of music was heard, "What Dad? I can't hear you."  
  
"Turn it OFF!" His last word reverberated in the sudden silence of the house. He smiled sheepishly at Angela and called up less loudly, "Thanks Sam." Turning towards Jonathan and the pizza mountain, he announced, "You. Boxes. Garbage. Now." Jonathan just shrugged and gamely started gathering the boxes with one arm; the other hand holding the greasy pizza crust he was still nibbling away at. Finally, Tony turned to look at Angela; slightly fearful of the reaction he was sure was waiting for him. Instead, all he got was stony silence and a frosty glare as Angela hung up her coat and then headed up the stairs without a backward glance.  
  
Twenty minutes later, after a shower and a change of clothes, Angela felt she might be able to face her family again. After all, they weren't responsible for the mess she called her love life. They didn't even know she'd ruined another perfectly good relationship because of her failure to commit, her inability to love. The truth be told, even these reasons weren't the source of her anger. She was mad at herself because instead of being sad about ending things with Barry, she was feeling relief. However, this really wasn't the time for in-depth self-analysis. That could wait until later. Right now, all she wanted was a bite to eat and a sympathetic shoulder to lean on.  
  
The sight of Tony smoothing his hair in the coat-rack mirror made her pause halfway down the stairs. She felt instantly annoyed as she realized that he was probably on his way out. "Going out tonight?" she asked him, continuing her descent.  
  
Tony's head jerked up at her voice and he wheeled around to face her, surprised by her sharp tone. "Well, yeah actually. It's Friday night and I thought I'd go out and have a couple of laughs." Part of him wanted to stay and find out what was bugging her, but the rational part of his brain kept telling him to mind his own business. If she wanted to talk to him, she'd talk to him.  
  
"I'm a little surprised," she found herself saying. "It's not like you to leave your chores undone."  
  
"What?" he asked, genuinely confused. "It's Friday night and technically I'm off the job. If it's about the pizza, I cleaned up the mess and got everything straightened up."  
  
She looked around the room and grudgingly admitted to herself that things did look tidy. "Well...what about the kids...and me? Don't I pay you to provide meals for me occasionally?"  
  
"What about the kids? Bonnie and Sam are having a sleepover up in Sam's room, and Jonathan's doing his homework in his room. Who knows where Mona is. And I figured when you didn't come home that you were probably eating out, but I left a couple of slices in the fridge just in case you weren't."  
  
"Oh. Well, there are other things too."  
  
"Like what?" he asked, exasperated.  
  
"Like, like...those flowers!" Angela's eyes had been desperately searching the room for a flaw and had come to rest on the vase full of faded blossoms over by the stairs.  
  
Tony followed her gaze and felt a small stab of pain as he realized which flowers she was talking about. All he could say was "Oh."  
  
"What's with the dead flowers? Look, they're faded and dusty and frankly more than a little depressing to look at."  
  
Quietly he spoke, "I think they're fine like that."  
  
"Tony, I want them gone!"  
  
"No." He couldn't touch them. He hadn't gone near them in months, and he would never touch them again if he could help it.  
  
"Tony! You're the housekeeper. Housekeepers clean, and to me, decaying flowers do not say 'clean'." A gentle voice in the back of her head kept nagging her to shut up, but the anger was much more powerful.  
  
"Fine!" At last he felt his own anger boil to the front. "Look, I get that you're going through a tough time right now, but taking out your frustrations out on me and everyone else is not okay. If you want the damn flowers gone, get rid of them yourself!" Storming out of the house, he slammed the door shut behind him and headed for his car.  
  
"Fine!" Angela yelled after him in frustration, perilously close to tears. She grabbed the flower heads and yanked them towards her, watching in horror as the vase slid across the cupboard and crashed to the floor.  
  
Dammit! Why was nothing in her life working anymore? She released a short breath and headed for the kitchen in search of a broom and dustpan. It wasn't until she was kneeling on the floor in front of the broken shards that it occurred to her which vase it was. The Christmas vase – the one Tony had sold his baseball card for. A wave of sadness washed over her as the memory enveloped her and she realized how much had changed between them, not just over the years, but in recent months as well.  
  
In the midst of the shattered glass, she noticed a crumpled piece of paper. She reached for it with a mystified expression on her face. The confusion increased as she opened it and read the writing.

> _To Angela,_

> Every day I find myself thankful for whatever force brought you into my life and my daughter's life. (And I'm not talking about your Mother.) Your friendship has been an amazing gift, one I hope to never lose. I'm not sure what the future holds for us, but the one thing I am sure of is you.
> 
> With love, Tony

Angela sat and stared in wonder at the card, trying to piece together the little fragments floating through her mind. When had he written this? Why was it crumpled in the bottom of a vase full of withered flowers? Were they for her and if they were, why hadn't he given them to her? Most of all, why didn't he throw them out when their beauty had faded, leaving them instead to fade and decay? She felt as if she had just discovered a clue to a mystery – one she couldn't comprehend. 


	8. Blue Violets

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

8. Blue Violets  
  
The house was full of the sounds of home and family. The laughter and giggles of an all night sleepover. The slight rattle of the kettle on the stove as it warmed and began to boil. The absent chatter of the television playing in the living room. Sounds she never paid attention to, but made her house a home. Angela sat at the kitchen table, an empty mug of tea in one hand, and a piece of tattered paper in the other, staring intently into space. Those wonderful, comfortable sounds filled her heart with such warmth, but even they weren't enough to stop the icy shiver of fear from running down her spine. Her rational mind grappled with her emotions as she tried to analyze and package away all the little thoughts floating around her head. Because it really was all too much. Barry had seemed the perfect match for her, but there was no spark. With Tony, there were definitely plenty of sparks to go around, as well as lots of laughter and caring. But the thought of loving him and having a relationship with him made her feel so vulnerable and uncertain. She could easily come up with a thousand different reasons why the idea of her and Tony together as a couple was absurd. But in the end, it kept coming back to one thing – the intense joy she had felt while reading his note to her. She stroked her finger over the card again, already knowing by heart every mark and nuance of his writing. Why hadn't he given her this before?  
  
Mona barreled into the kitchen with the flush of happiness on her cheeks and a trail of laughter flowing over her shoulder. She greeted her daughter but was met by a vague, distant response. Taking in the bathrobe, the bunny slippers, and the pint of Ben and Jerry's sitting forlornly at her daughter's elbow, she knew instantly it was time for crisis management, regardless of whatever fun was waiting for her outside on the driveway. "Oh Angela," she sighed, slumping into a nearby chair, "What have you done now?"  
  
It didn't take long for Angela to fill her mother in on the whole story. Mona had guessed most of it by this point already. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out the connection between Angela's permanent bad mood and the string of recent dateless nights. But she was absolutely floored when she heard about the flowers and the card from Tony. In the back of her mind, the mention of the flowers stirred a long forgotten memory, but she quickly pushed it aside in her quest for steamy details. She'd felt the heat and instant chemistry between her daughter and her favorite housekeeper for the longest time, it was impossible not to. Somehow though, she'd always assumed that their stubbornness and fear would keep them from venturing down the romance path together. Occasionally she'd give them a push to see if they would break, but each time their resolve seemed stronger. The thought that Tony had been willing to take that step on his own was more than she could have ever hoped for. Thinking of the dead flowers, she shook her head, wondering what had stopped him this time. She stared evenly at Angela and asked, "What are you going to do about this?"  
  
"Do, Mother? I'm not going to do anything. Tony is out tonight, probably on another date, and I'm sure the last thing he wants to do is have a heart to heart after our fight." She sighed, blinking back the tears. "Besides, he must have written this a long time ago. For whatever reason he didn't give it to me, and so I have to assume it that he meant it as merely a friendly gesture or he decided he really didn't feel that way or whatever. It doesn't mean anything now, he's moved on."  
  
"Angela, Angela.... Think about it for a moment. Have you ever met one of Tony's dates lately, or even heard him mention anyone by name? He goes out a lot, but where does he go? He goes to study groups, or the library, or to Brooklyn with the old gang. The flowers, God knows about the flowers... Maybe he chickened out, maybe a thousand different things. But why didn't he get rid of the flowers? There has to be something more to this. You should talk to him Angela, because there's no other way you're going to figure this out."  
  
"Oh yeah Mother, that's just what I'll do. I'll walk up to Tony tomorrow in front of the kids and say, 'How about those dead flowers. Wrote any good notes lately?' I barely see him for more than five minutes at a time these days so I'll just walk up to him and lay this heavy conversation on him. That'll work." Angela rolled her eyes in frustration.  
  
Mona's eyes sparkled as she suggested, "Maybe you should make some time."  
  
Instantly regretting it, she asked, "How do you suggest I do that? Follow him on a date?"  
  
"Exactly!" Mona cheered. "Now you're talking. When he goes out tomorrow, follow him and see for yourself whether he's moved on. If he has, then you know. And if he hasn't, well, then you have the whole night to work things out."  
  
"Mother! I couldn't!" Angela protested. She considered the card again. Almost to herself she added, "Could I?" She raised her eyes to meet her mother's in an impish grin. 


	9. Iris

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah...Not mine!

9. Iris  
  
Angela felt incredibly silly sitting alone in the darkness of her car, trying to ignore the fact that Tony was a few feet away, and sitting alone in the darkness of his car. She wondered briefly about his reasons coming up to Inspiration Point tonight, but wondered more about whatever impulse convinced her that following him was a good idea. Finally, she released her seatbelt and pulled on the door handle, deciding that she should face this head on. She knocked timidly on his passenger window, watching as a smug smile appeared on his face. The grin was still there as he leaned over and unlocked the door. She treated him with a glare as she crawled into the jeep, not really mad but a little embarrassed by her actions. "Funny meeting you here," he teased as she settled into the seat beside him.  
  
"Yeah, funny." She agreed vaguely, trying not to let anything slip.  
  
"You know," he continued, "it's the strangest thing, but I could have sworn I saw you everywhere I went tonight."  
  
She gritted her teeth; thankful the darkness hid the blush creeping across her cheeks. "Really? Maybe you should see someone about this little problem of yours."  
  
He ignored her. "I was grabbing a bite at the diner and the whole time I felt as if someone were watching me. But every time I looked, it was like I was just missing whoever it was. Once though, I could have sworn I saw the flash of blonde curls ducking behind the window."  
  
"Maybe it was just the flash of headlights?"  
  
"Oh, and I was shooting some pool at the bar and the waitress came over and told me some lady across the room was checking me out. Said she was tall and classy and definitely out of place. Of course, by the time I looked, she was gone."  
  
"Oh my, you attract all types don't you?"  
  
"Then on my way out here, I stopped to help some woman change a tire and this late-model Jag flew by me. I could've sworn it looked just like the one sitting right over there." He nodded his head towards her car. Folding his hands neatly in his lap, he sat and waited expectantly.  
  
Time to 'fess up. "Tony, I'm...." She closed her eyes, trying to build her courage. "I followed you tonight. I shouldn't have. It's just that... I wanted to talk to you and Mother suggested that I... I'm sorry." Would the earth just please hurry up, swallow her up, and end this misery? Slowly opening her eyes to take a peak at him, she noticed that he didn't look angry, just amused. "You're not mad at me?"  
  
He chuckled slightly at this and shook his head. "Angela, if you wanted to talk to me, why didn't you just, I dunno, talk to me?"  
  
"After the fight we had the other night, I wasn't sure if you would want to."  
  
With all seriousness, he replied, "You're my friend. I always want to talk to you. Even when I don't want to talk to you, I want to talk to you. You know?"  
  
She smiled at his confused words, understanding him perfectly. "I know." They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before she spoke again. "I broke up with Barry."  
  
"I know."  
  
With surprise, she asked, "You know? How?"  
  
He shrugged and answered; "Barry came by to pick up his jacket yesterday. He told me."  
  
Angela let this news digest in her stomach for a moment before speaking again. "I threw out the flowers."  
  
"I noticed." Silence again.  
  
"And I broke the vase."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Tony, I'm so, so sorry. It was the vase you gave me for Christmas. It was an accident, I swear, but it's ruined. I'll replace it as soon as I get a chance."  
  
"Angela, sometimes I think that there's no use in trying to replace something once it's broken or lost, because no matter how hard you try, it's never the same."  
  
She felt a hollowness open up inside her – one that could swallow her up if she let it. "Do you think that's true for all things?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like friendship. Like love. Do you think the once they're broken, they can't be fixed?"  
  
"Oh hey, I was talking about replacing, not fixing. They're two different things. Replace something and the emotion behind it is gone. Repair it and the emotion goes on. It might not be perfect anymore or sparkling new, but the value inside still stays the same."  
  
"Tony, I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For pushing you away these past few months."  
  
"Eh oh. You were giving your relationship with Barry a shot. The last thing you needed was some hairy Italian sticking his broken nose in where it didn't belong."  
  
"But it did." The statement hung in the air.  
  
Finally, Tony asked, "Huh?"  
  
"Tony, you were my best friend, you're one of the most important people in my life. Of course you had a right to be involved."  
  
One word stuck out in his mind. "Were? You mean I'm not your friend anymore?"  
  
"Were. Are. Still. Maybe?" she looked at him hopefully.  
  
He placed his hand on hers and squeezed it gently, looking intently into her eyes. "Always."  
  
She felt the pull of her body towards him but was still surprised when her lips met his, gently moving against them. The moment was surreal. She knew she was kissing him, and she knew she didn't want him to stop kissing her back, but it all seemed as if it were happening in a place and time outside of reality. As her hands made their way around his neck to press him closer, she suddenly knew that this was real and it was something she wanted badly. She knew that she belonged right there in his arms and would be completely happy if he never let her go. The kiss seemed to go on forever, but at last they parted and leaned back to look into each other's eyes. It was Angela who spoke first. "It all comes down to a principle a friend told me about. They teach it to new engineers on their first day of classes to. I don't know. Remind them of the big picture."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"It's called the KISS principle. A friend of mine in college took engineering and she told me about it. She used to amaze me. I mean, I thought I was brave, blazing a path in the world of advertising, but there she was – one of three girls in a class of seventy. Now that's a trail blazer."  
  
"Angela." Tony interrupted, still feeling the burning of her lips upon his own, "What are you talking about?"  
  
"What? Oh sorry, I got sidetracked. The KISS principle."  
  
Now he really looked confused. "They teach engineers about kissing?"  
  
She laughed lightly and shook her head. "Oh no. Not kissing. The KISS principle – it's an acronym." He looked at her expectantly. "Keep it simple stupid."  
  
"Huh?" The whole discussion seemed too much to focus on after being that close to her.  
  
"K.I.S.S. Keep It Simple Stupid. It's a way of reminding them that sometimes the easiest solution possible is best. Not to overcomplicate things."  
  
He chuckled back at her, finally understanding what she was trying to say. "And here I was picturing the nerdy engineers getting make-out tips from their professors."  
  
"Hey, engineers can be wild if they want to be." Tony lifted his eyebrows in doubt. Her eyes twinkled as she added, "Ever hear of the Lady Godiva Ride?" She couldn't repress her giggles as a shocked look appeared on his face. But the laughter was contagious and eventually he joined her.  
  
"So, you think it's as simple as a KISS?" he asked.  
  
"I think maybe we overcomplicate things. That maybe by KISSING we could make things better."  
  
"But maybe there's more to it than a kiss?" he suggested.  
  
"And maybe a kiss is enough." She amended, staring straight into his eyes.  
  
"Angela." He began.  
  
"Yeah Tony?"  
  
"There's something I want to tell you."  
  
Before he could finish the thought, she interrupted him. "I found the card."  
  
He hesitated. "What card?"  
  
She looked away, hoping she wasn't messing everything up by asking him about this. "When I was cleaning up the broken vase. And the flowers. I found this card." Reaching into her coat pocket, she took out a crumpled and now softly worn card. It was his turn to look away. That tiny bit of paper still haunted him all these months later. Tilting her head and trying to catch his eye, she asked, "Is this... Does this... Were those flowers for me?"  
  
He glanced at her briefly and nodded.  
  
"I don't understand. Why didn't you give them to me? Why did you let them sit there and wither and die and not let me know, not let me read this beautiful card?"  
  
"Because Angela," he breathed heavily, "because I couldn't. Besides, it wouldn't have mattered."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
Momentarily letting his guard down, he released a bitter laugh. "You were seeing Barry. Who was I to make any declarations? I'm just the housekeeper remember? Nothing I said or did would've made any difference except to maybe really mess things up."  
  
The tears were back in her eyes again. "Oh Tony, I'm so sorry."  
  
"For what? You keep apologizing to me but you didn't know that I was feeling what I was feeling. I certainly wasn't going to tell you."  
  
She bit her lip lightly, allowing herself to admit aloud something she had been forcing herself to ignore for a long time. "Maybe you didn't tell me, but maybe I sort of knew, and maybe I sort of felt the same way." She exhaled a shaky breath and felt a tear slide over the curve of her cheek. Softly, as if to herself, she said, "Barry was right. It has everything to do with you." Looking up into his wide-eyed gaze, she felt a sudden warmth fill her chest. "I couldn't love him because I already had you."  
  
"You've always had me. I meant it though." His smile matched hers.  
  
"You meant what?" She was distracted by how the hot breeze of his breath made her skin tingle.  
  
"The card. I love you. With Love. I mean it." Why did words always fail him in the most important moments?  
  
"I meant it too."  
  
"What? The card? You didn't..."  
  
Interrupting, she corrected him, "No, this." Suddenly her lips were upon his, capturing him in a heated embrace. As she trailed kisses over his jaw line, she whispered, "I love you too." 


	10. Single Pink Rose in Full Bloom

Disclaimer: Again, not mine...

10. Single Pink Rose in Full Bloom  
  
Angela couldn't stop the goofy smile from appearing on her face as she entered the front door and saw Tony standing inside. A perfect end to the week, she thought, only barely registering the familiarity of the scene. She quickly shrugged off her coat and threw down her briefcase before making her way towards him.  
  
"Hi honey, I'm home!" she teased as she wrapped her arms around him, leaning in for a short kiss.  
  
"Some of my most favorite words in the English language!" he teased back, bringing his lips to hers again. "Good day?" he whispered into her ear.  
  
Angela felt his muscles tense slightly beneath her hands and moved to get a better look at him. She suddenly wondered why he was so dressed up and why his eyes seemed so big, dark, and serious. "I had a wonderful day - but Tony, are you okay? You seem...not yourself."  
  
He thrust a beautiful, if slightly unusual, bouquet of flowers between them and announced, "These are for you."  
  
She blinked, and then looked down at the flowers, letting a smile replace the confusion on her face. "They're lovely, really." She closed her eyes and breathed in their heady scent. Her hand rose and rested on his as she asked, "Tony are you sure you're all right?"  
  
He nodded unconvincingly and swallowed nervously. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Better than I've been in months really."  
  
She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she prompted, "But...."  
  
"But? Oh no, Angela, no buts. However..."  
  
She stood very still, hoping he wasn't going to tell her that they had made a mistake. That last night he hadn't been thinking clearly and maybe they should just go back to being friends.  
  
He grasped her hands tighter, noticing her smile fade and her body tense. "No, I'm not telling you that I regret telling you that I love you. I don't. I still do." He shook his head, knowing he was making a mess of things. "It's just that there's been something I've been meaning to ask you for a long time, and I thought it was about time. Only, I've tried once before and it didn't work out as I hoped."  
  
Angela smiled slightly and fingered the pale pink rose sitting in the center of the bouquet. Looking up at him she asked, "What is it Tony?"  
  
"I was wondering if you'd be my date for tonight, for every night?" He stopped suddenly; realizing it sounded like he was either propositioning her or talking marriage. "I mean. Not that...or that. Not that I don't want to, but not. What I was trying to say was..."  
  
She struggled to suppress a giggle as she watched him falling over himself for the right words. Did she really have that affect on him? "It's okay Tony, I understand."  
  
A wave of relief washed over him and he visibly relaxed. She leaned forward and kissed him gently. Instinctively he held her closer and deepened the kiss. Pulling away with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she casually announced, "Oh, and by the way Tony, yes."  
  
"To what?" he called after her as she mounted the stairs.  
  
She paused at the landing and replied in a light voice, "To this and that, and everything else."  
  
They gazed at each other for a heartbeat before Tony cleared his throat and announced, "The kids are staying with friends tonight."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Mona's got a date." He offered.  
  
"I know that too."  
  
He smiled at her and she smiled back. "So what exactly is 'everything else'?"  
  
In a seductive voice she replied, "You'll just have to find out for yourself." Tony turned and set the flowers in a nearby vase of water, before racing up the stairs towards her. Angela released a peal of laughter as he caught up to her and prevented her escape. She grabbed his hand and they stumbled up the stairs together, knowing that eventually the flowers would wither and fade, but their feelings for each other would only grow stronger with time. 


	11. Flower Meanings

Authors Note:

The chapters were all named with the hidden flower meaning in mind. The bouquet Tony gives Angela in the end is supposed to be made up with these flowers. Okay, so it's a bizzare combination, but oh well...

Meanings of flowers: (gathered from various sources)  
  
Forsythia-Anticipation

Hyacinth-Games & Sports, rashness, play

Forget-me-not-True love, memories

Stock-Bonds of affection

Zinnia-Lasting affection, thinking of an absent friend, constancy, goodness, daily remembrance

Cyclamen-Resignation and goodbye

Petunia-Resentment, anger, your presence soothes me

Blue Violet-Watchfulness, faithfulness

Iris-Promise, your friendship means so much to me, faith, hope, and wisdom 

Single Rose in Full Bloom-I love you, I still love you

Pink Rose-Perfect happiness; please believe me, friendship


End file.
